


The Inside Man

by Telas_Selar



Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Anger, Angst, Bisexual Raffi Musiker, Gay S'vec Sylar, I mean they're always mutual pining, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Mental Conditioning, Implied/Referenced Past Torture, M/M, Mentions of self-harm, Mutual Pining (sort of?), POW S'vec Sylar, Pansexual Cristóbal Rios, Protective Cristóbal Rios, Self-harming S'vec Sylar (not shown), Sleeper Agent Sylar, Syrios, romulan language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26484301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telas_Selar/pseuds/Telas_Selar
Summary: Sylar's status as an unwilling spy forces him to keep updating his Tal Shiar superiors at randomly chosen dates and times. An unsuspecting Raffi overhears him giving one of these progress reports.
Relationships: Cristóbal Rios & Raffi Musiker, Cristóbal Rios/S'vec Sylar, Raffi Musiker & S'vec Sylar
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [softrdj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softrdj/gifts).



It wasn’t supposed to go this way.

Raffi Musiker’s muscles had been aching all evening, sleep too far off for her liking, and so, with an irritable shove to put away the holographic screen, she got up. Perhaps a drink of something stronger than that blasted ginger ale the hospitality hologram had made her drink for the entirety of the past two hours would put things into clearer perspective - or at least allow her to finish her latest research in peace.

But the replicator refused to comply when she spoke to it, beeping in that same godforsaken way that made her long to...well, it didn’t really matter. Punching the damn thing wasn’t going to force it to be helpful; it was far more likely to activate that hologram again instead. How did Cris even  _ stand _ him? Emil and Ian were polite, Enoch was sweet, Emmett was, well, Emmett, but Steward was completely unbearable.

Muttering something inappropriate, the former Commander stepped out into the corridor, stretching as she did so. Maybe she’d have better luck getting a drink in the mess hall - Cris was probably asleep or she’d have thought about paying him a late-night visit - but she’d have to do it quietly or risk dealing with Sylar, who took his job a bit _ too _ seriously for Raffi’s liking.

What did Cris see in the Vulcan anyway? Sure, he was quiet and compliant and apparently attractive enough for her friend to accept his reassignment to the ship, but what was the point of him exactly? 

Raffi passed a hand over her eyes, wondering for a moment if her anger was really just masked exhaustion. Cris was  _ happy _ with Sylar, happier than she’d seen him in years and that was a good thing; Cris deserved a bit of happiness after everything Starfleet had put him through. And speaking of Starfleet… _ God, _ she needed a drink.

And it was at this precise moment, when her thoughts shifted direction, that she heard it - a low voice speaking in perfectly accented Romulan.


	2. Chapter 2

Fear and adrenaline surged through Raffi’s still form like an arrow - Cris didn’t speak Romulan any more than she did, but...there was still one other person on this ship whom she lacked more knowledge of than she knew.

The former commander swore under her breath before deciding to find out exactly what the hell was going on, slipping easily into the shadows cast by the engine. She had known little of Sylar before today, only that Cris found him attractive, and that he was an active Starfleet officer who apparently spoke the language of Starfleet’s oldest enemy, (although that last was an assumption she’d just made on the spot.)

Raffi risked a paranoid glance over her shoulder before advancing closer to where the voice was coming from - empty quarters that Cris had converted into an additional storeroom, and her blood ran cold to see someone who was unmistakably Sylar, standing in the middle of the room, an unrecognisable device held up to his mouth, the steady stream of Romulan leaving his lips as easily uttered as his native tongue.

 _“Hwia i'mae iebhe hvaedroalh ehdhihss aehhen”_ The Vulcan was saying. _“Ehri 'hh temenuare ehsiu, ssiebh. 'nhdh are oa yearhoaiumm'u llhiu ehdhihss temkhhya hvaedroalh a aehhen, hvaedroalh hsouh, inhssth mnei ta aeih iebhe been vaiyreri...”_

Raffi gritted her teeth, glancing around for something to use to attack the man she’d once given the smallest semblance of trust to, but a hand fell on her shoulder before she could even make the decision to move, startling her immeasurably for a moment.

“Cris, what the _hell”_ She hissed at her companion, who had apparently managed to sneak up on her while she’d been immersed in keeping her eyes on Sylar, but the captain only put a finger to his lips, a troubled expression etched clearly into his features.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion then fury as he silently indicated for them both to step back, to step away from that dark room and Sylar and the mysterious communicator.

“The hell I will” Raffi snapped in a manancing whisper. “This is crazy! Don’t you see what he’s doing, what he _is_?”

“Raffi, please.” Rios clearly did not want to speak aloud, but he seemed to realise that the silent approach wasn’t working. “I’ll explain everything, just not here. If they hear you-”

 _“They?”_ Raffi looked positively murderous. “Who else is involved?”

“That’s not a one-way communications device” Rios said out of the corner of his mouth, hoping that this piece of knowledge would convince his friend to wait for the rest of the information, but it did the exact opposite.

“Who’s in this, Rios? The Tal Sh-” Raffi started again and Cris stepped forwards, firmly taking her arm before he leaned in to whisper more discreetly, the fear in his eyes disturbingly easy to read.

 _“Mierda!”_ His tone was laced with an emotion that she’d never heard before. “Listen to me, Raffi. If you keep talking so damn loud, that man in there is going to die.”


	3. Chapter 3

Whatever Raffi had expected, it wasn’t this, but the shock of Rios’ words was enough to silence her momentarily, just long enough for the captain to pull both of them out of earshot.

The second they were safely away from the storeroom, however, she rounded on him with unbridled fury.

“Rios, you’d better explain yourself right now or I am marching in there and-”

“And what? You’re gonna shoot my doctor?” Cris let out a humourless laugh, though it sounded strangely hollow. “This is bigger than him, Raffi, bigger than me or you. He’s important, but he’s not the enemy.”

Nothing but this clear desperation in her friend’s voice would have made the former commander take a breath, steeling herself to listen, although the act itself was herculean.

_ “Alright” _ She managed between gritted teeth. “Then what the  _ fuck _ is he, Cris?”

At this, the captain involuntarily looked away for a moment, before his gaze flickered back to meet Raffi’s.

“Tal Shiar sleeper agent.”

“Son of a bitch.”

_ “Unwilling  _ sleeper agent.”

“Bullshit.” Although something about that made her uneasy. “There’s no such thing.”

“See for yourself.” Cris’ voice trembled slightly - another unfamiliar thing - before he indicated the figure walking back out of the storeroom.

And _ everything _ about him was off, Raffi thought, as she watched, and it made her skin crawl.

Sylar’s usually stern expression was gone, replaced by...nothing. A void seemed to stare back at her from eyes she knew to be dull yet usually expressive, and his movements were trancelike, his voice a complete monotone as he ordered hot chocolate from the replicator in that same fluent Romulan. He looked straight through her, and straight through Cris as though neither of them were there, just a couple of metres away, before turning in the opposite direction towards his own quarters.  _ Unsettling  _ didn’t even come close to describing it.

“How was it done?” Raffi heard herself asking, and Rios wrapped his arms around himself, swallowing hard against a dry throat.

“Torture, mainly. They did other things to him too, experiments.”

“How long have you known?”

“From the beginning. He gave me access to his files. But this?” Another humourless laugh. “I found out a couple years back, but I can’t talk to him about it. What they did to his mind is complicated. It’s like...a minefield. You say the wrong thing and you trip one, activate a subroutine or a hidden command. He tried to convince me to allow him to take a temporary post somewhere that was swarming with Romulans because it was the right thing to do and I said no. Ten minutes later, Emil calls me. Sylar mixed corrosive acids and drank them as a form of self-punishment.”

“Shit.”

Cris nodded, fingernails digging into his arms.

“That was when I found out most of it.” The captain paused, letting out a soft sigh. “Do you want a drink? I can’t be with him right now and...I think you need something stronger than ginger ale.”

At this, Raffi raised an eyebrow.

“Steward did that with you too?” She asked, and Cris laughed exasperatedly, although the laughter didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“All the  _ damn _ time now.”


End file.
